


Throw Me Tomorrow

by misqueue



Series: Scenes During the Break Up [10]
Category: Glee
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Drama, Klaine Advent 2013, M/M, Romance, Season/Series 04, Sex in a Car, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 21:46:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misqueue/pseuds/misqueue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set between 4x22 "All or Nothing" and 5x01 "Love, Love, Love". The pieces are coming together for Blaine, and he's ready. For klaineadvent 2013 prompt #10 Jigsaw.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Throw Me Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the lyrics to David Bowie's "Thursday's Child"

**Spring 2013**

Kurt's waiting by a tree on the sidewalk outside Breadstix as Blaine exits the restaurant. Blaine, having been caught in one last congratulatory group hug with Sam and Ryder and Tina and Marley, says his farewells again to his friends—and to Mr. Schuester and Miss Pills— the new Mrs. Schuester. He meets Kurt's patient attention and smiles while fishing his keys from his pocket. He's parked close by, and he'd promised Kurt a ride home. Blaine presses the remote to unlock the car with a flash of its lights and a welcoming ding. Kurt returns Blaine's smile and reaches a hand out to him. Their hands find each other easily and without thought, and they walk to Blaine's car together.

The ring is in Blaine's bag, as it has been since he bought it. He's been trying to put the pieces together, to find the right time, the right way. It feels like they're so close. The warmth and easiness of Kurt from the night they spent together has remained between them. Last Friday, they'd stayed up past dawn, fucking, talking, then making love, and talking more, laughing, playing. And then, as morning approached, sleepless and still helplessly caught in each other's orbits, they went downstairs. Kurt made coffee. Together, tucked under a blanket, they sat outside on the patio with their mugs and watched the sun rise. They talked about when Blaine would be in New York, Kurt held his hand, and Blaine could still feel how deeply Kurt had been inside his body. In that moment, they were like boyfriends again, dreaming a future together. Not an entire life—no further than a few months or a year, but it was precious and true.

That was when Blaine knew he should buy the ring for Kurt. Whether Burt approved or not, Blaine understood he couldn't simply wait for True Love to magically bring him and Kurt back to one another. He had to be active and work the magic himself, had to keep asking Kurt, had to keep listening to him and telling him his own answers; he had to be certain Kurt knew how he felt, that they still wanted the same things, and Blaine was ready now for all the things he hadn't been then. They had waited long enough; sometimes it felt like they'd been waiting lifetimes. He wouldn't make either of them wait any longer than they had to.

But then, with Jan and Liz, Kurt had said, "Oh, we're not a couple," and Blaine knew it wasn't time yet. Not quite. It still felt close. It feels closer and closer yet as they walk down the rank of cars in the mall parking lot, hand in hand, as if their hands should always be thus, comfortable and steady and warm together.

In the car, as Blaine's pulling into the sparse traffic, Kurt speaks. "Do you think they'll be happy?" he asks. 

Blaine spares a glance as he straightens the car and accelerates. Kurt is thoughtful, leaning his head back and gazing out the window. His fingers rub against the armrest between them, as if seeking some kinder texture than what they're finding. 

"Oh, well, um," Blaine says, and turns his attention back to the road. "That's up to them, don't you think?"

"Maybe," Kurt says with a wistful sigh.

"Maybe?" Blaine prompts. Catches Kurt's wry smile in his peripheral vision and wonders what it means.

"Do you think people can choose to be happy? Or is it just circumstance and personality and, I don't know, luck of the draw..." Kurt shrugs.

"In general or in relationships?"

"Both."

It's a big question, especially after the last several months. The year has been hard on Kurt, hard on himself too. But Blaine doesn't feel unhappy any longer. He wakes looking forward to his days. Things are missing still, but he's putting the pieces back together, making choices that bring him closer to his goals. But he knows it hasn't been like that for Kurt. The mistakes Blaine made, his father's illness, these aren't things Kurt could control, and no matter how well work and school have gone, they haven't made up for the things Kurt lost. And even with his father's health restored and the potential of their relationship renewed, Blaine knows that doesn't erase the emotional hardship. He knows Kurt's tired.

"I guess," Blaine starts slowly, stalling a little bit as he gathers words. "It depends on how a person defines happiness? But I think it's all of the above. Luck and circumstance matter, but we still have choices."

"To a point," Kurt says, and chews his lip. "We can't choose our feelings, can we?"

That seems a rather overloaded question. Blaine pulls to a stop at a red light and turns to look at Kurt. He won't try to read anything into Kurt's words beyond what Kurt's asking him. "The big feelings? No, we don't choose those. We can accept them or try to deny them, but they are what they are—we are who we are."

"It's hard," Kurt says. "Sometimes." His gaze is solemn and bright, and terribly open.

Blaine drops his hand from the steering wheel to cover Kurt's nearest hand. "I know," he says. Kurt turns his hand beneath Blaine's, palm up, and squeezes before letting Blaine retrieve his hand when the light turns green.

They fall into silence after that, and Blaine doesn't press Kurt to talk more. He's gone back to a thoughtful mien as he reaches for the car stereo and finds some music to lull them on their way.

.

It's another twenty minutes, give or take, to Kurt's darkened house, and it's well past midnight when Blaine pulls into the driveway. Kurt no longer has a curfew, and Blaine's parents have let him have more flexibility with his own. He texted his mother from the restaurant and told her not to wait up for him. He's not ready to say good night to Kurt, so when Kurt turns to him with another question in his gaze, Blaine turns back and waits for Kurt to ask it. His hand goes to the ignition, poised to turn the engine off.

But Kurt doesn't ask him anything, not with words. He leans over and brings a hand to Blaine's shoulder, urging him closer and Blaine hears the click of Kurt's seat belt releasing, and then Kurt's shifting near, and Blaine keys off the car, undoes his own seat belt, and moves to meet Kurt, grateful there's no gear stick between them, just the low padded armrest.

Kurt kisses him, soft and full of breath. The warmth of Kurt's mouth and the feel of his lips, smooth and completely certain, has Blaine reaching for Kurt's face, angling his jaw, coaxing him open, and drawing him into a deeper kiss. 

"Would you touch me?" Kurt murmurs when Blaine eases up to breathe.

"Yeah," Blaine says, and pushes back into Kurt's mouth as he drops a hand to Kurt's waist. Maybe he should ask if Kurt wants to go in, take this to his old bedroom, but he suspects, given the strange, unnameable status of their relationship, Kurt's not going to want to wake up the house to take Blaine to bed. So here will have to do; they have enough privacy at this hour. 

It's familiar enough work for his hands, undoing Kurt's trousers and reaching into his fly, finding him hard and hot, pulsing eagerly into the curl of Blaine's fingers. 

"God," Kurt whispers, and his head lolls back as Blaine pulls up along silken skin. 

Blaine kisses his throat and asks, "May I blow you?"

"Uh huh," Kurt replies with a pleasant shudder.

Then it's awkward. Blaine has to get his knees up on the seat to bend over the console to get at Kurt, and Kurt pushes his seat back and leans against the door, unbuttoning his waistcoat and shirt to give Blaine fewer obstacles. And Blaine wants to make this good for Kurt, even if it's to be a clandestine blowjob given in the car. Blaine presses a kiss low on Kurt's belly and strokes his shaft with a loose hand. He nuzzles lower, exhales and inhales deeply. The scent of Kurt, so intimate and specific here, fills his lungs and makes his head swim. It's always, always like something half-forgotten, now wonderfully recalled. Kurt fills his nose with sex-sweet fragrance: dense arousal and clean sweat and it's like nothing other than Kurt.

"Sweetheart," Blaine murmurs, and tugs at Kurt's fly, tries to find more space, more skin. Kurt helps, but it's still less than Blaine wants, but he takes what he can—and gives all he's able. Sucks Kurt into his mouth with a moan he cannot withhold, while his thumbs stroke down beneath the stretched band of Kurt's underwear.

Above him Kurt grunts and sighs and one hand pushes into Blaine's hair, breaking the hold of product to take a fistful. The tug of Kurt's hand in his hair, tight, right on the edge of hurting but not quite, tingles across Blaine's scalp and down his spine, burrows deep into the heat blooming in his belly. Eagerly, Blaine finds a rhythm for his lips and tongue, steady, but not too fast, the way he knows Kurt likes it best. 

"That's it," Kurt gasps out, "oh, god, Blaine, that's it."

Blaine hums and squeezes at Kurt's hip, but he doesn't falter.

"Fucking perfect," Kurt says, and Blaine thrills at the grit in his voice as much as the praise, the breathless rasp of it. Loves how he affects Kurt, loves what it means between them—still and, he hopes, always. Tries to take more of Kurt into his mouth, as much as he can, wants to take him as deep as possible, wants so much, the heaviness of Kurt filling him up, the taste and scent of him, the urgency of his touch, the restless shifting of his hips. The creak of the car seat protests their activity.

"Oh, honey, I'm so close," Kurt says, giving Blaine a scant few seconds warning before he comes. Blaine pulls back to catch it all on his tongue.

He's barely had a chance to swallow a second time before Kurt's pulling him up for a kiss. "That was, mmm," Kurt hums into another kiss, and then, once he's caught his breath, "Let me return the favor?" he asks, hot breath against Blaine's cheek.

"You don't have to," Blaine says as he smooths his hands down Kurt's shoulders and gives a reassuring kiss to the corner of Kurt's mouth. "I'll take care of myself at home."

Kurt shakes his head. "No, I'm not sending you off to drive all that way so unsatisfied," Kurt says, and his hands are already fumbling at Blaine's clothing, undoing his cardigan. "So let me, please? I really want to, Blaine."

"Anything for you," Blaine says.

And Kurt snorts a sudden laugh. "You're so selfless."

Blaine's answering laughter only lasts until Kurt's got his pants open and is pushing him back with such hot intention in his gaze and a delightful wickedness in his smile, Blaine loses his breath altogether. "Okay," he manages, and gives himself over to Kurt's hands and mouth.

And, god, his _mouth_ , hot and wet and opening so generously around Blaine, sliding down snug and slick and knowing. There's something else, too, something urgent, like Kurt's hands were in his hair, something hungry and seeking, and Blaine knows, with the tight pull of suction and how swiftly Kurt is picking up speed, that this is going to be quick and dirty—and utterly fantastic. 

Finesse is not Kurt's aim; it's messy and loud and borderline gluttonous. He sucks Blaine with such hedonistic indulgence, moaning and swallowing all around him, and Blaine can do nothing but succumb to it. It feels like Kurt's forcefully sucking his orgasm right up from his balls, irresistible. 

"I love you," Blaine whispers right before he lurches helplessly into his climax. Kurt keeps at him, not letting up on the suction even as he slows. He stays down, his mouth only gradually softening around Blaine, humming contentedly and exchanging the insistent pull of his mouth with the more tender caress of his tongue.

Blaine shivers and pets clumsily at Kurt's shoulders. "That's, oh..." His cock twitches feebly, and Kurt finally lifts his head. 

Kurt crawls up and gets closer somehow, manages to pull Blaine into something of an embrace. "Me too, you know," he says.

With a smile, Blaine rubs his nose into the sweaty hair at Kurt's temple. "I do know." He lets his eyes slip closed for a few heartbeats, just enjoys the feel of Kurt in his arms, lax and warm in the afterglow. Such as it is. 

Kurt squirms closer and sighs. His hand finds Blaine's and interleaves their fingers loosely. "I'm glad," Kurt says.

"So are you sure we're not a couple?" Blaine asks, affectionate and teasing more than anything.

But then, Kurt grins against his cheek, and, "No," he says so softly, softly enough Blaine isn't sure he even heard the word correctly. And if he did, then... Then?

Then Kurt pulls back to meet Blaine's gaze more seriously, but still warm and smiling. And though Blaine knows this is neither the time nor the place for this conversation, Kurt's next words surprise him even more. "You should ask me that again before I go back to New York."

"Oh," Blaine says, stunned, pleasantly so, with a smile stretching his lips. "I will."

Kurt bites self-consciously into his bottom lip. "I guess... I should go, then," Kurt says, pulling away reluctantly, but there's light in his eyes, and the promise of an answer to be given later.

"Yeah," Blaine says, blinks at him, trying to memorize everything about Kurt in this moment of candid confession. "It's late."

"I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" Kurt says, and he starts buttoning up his shirt. 

Blaine nods, and reaches for Kurt's hand, interrupts the work of his fingers, to hold on, one last time before they part. Too many words crowd up on his tongue, and all he manages for right now is, "I had a good time tonight, thank you." 

"Well, it's a tradition now, isn't it?" Kurt says, lifts a shoulder in airy and artful glibness. "A hook up in your car at Mr. Schuester and Miss Pillsbury's wedding."

"I guess so," Blaine says, and he does up his pants, doesn't worry too much about the rest of his dishevelment. "Lucky for us they did it twice."

Kurt laughs and resumes straightening his clothes back to perfection. "Maybe you're right," he says, while looking down at his hands as he tucks his shirt in.

"Hmm? About?"

"That it's up to them. We all have choices we can make, to try to find our own happiness." Kurt looks up to meet Blaine's gaze. "In accord with our feelings."

They're so close to it, and it feels like a precipice, but one Blaine is absolutely ready for. "Kurt?" Blaine says. He desperately wants to Kurt to know how ready he is, but he can't untangle his words from his fluttering heartbeat, and it's no more the right place or time now than it was ten minutes ago.

"Ask me again, Blaine? Not now, I'm still—" Kurt breaks off with a gesture at himself, waving between his head and heart. "But please, ask me again soon." Then Kurt pops the car door open beside him.

Even though Blaine knows the question Kurt is asking him for is not the same question Blaine has had restlessly hanging on the back of his tongue all week, it's all part of the same truth for them. "I promise, I will," he says. "I will."


End file.
